Mental
by TwentyThreeSecondsToSunrise
Summary: They both had labels. Alfred's label was having a very complex personality disorder, whilst Arthur Kirkland's was being schizophrenic mess. But, sometimes, having a label isn't really the problem. My apologies... I suck at making these summaries. So basically, this is just a random thing I decided to write. USUK, other parings later, and T for language.
1. The Remedy

_Disclaimer:Hetalia ain't mine Bros! xD_

_Summary_

_They both had labels. Alfred's was having a very complex personality disorder, whilst Arthur Kirkland's was a schizophrenic mess. _

* * *

_Well I saw fireworks from the freeway  
And behind closed eyes I cannot make them go away  
'Cause you were born on the fourth of july, freedom ring  
Now something on the surface it stings  
I said something on the surface  
Well it kind of makes me nervous  
Who says that you deserve this  
And what kind of god would serve this?  
We will cure this dirty old disease  
Well if you've got the poison I've got the remedy_

_The Remedy_

_Jason Mraz_

* * *

_Alfred's POV_

Alfred Jones yawned as he ran his fingers through his hair, slowly coming out of that blissful state most called 'unconsciousness. He lazily looked around his room, which he'd been in for about a month now... Just a bed, with plain, white sheets, with a plain wooden night stand, a plain matching dresser, and a flat screened TV planted into the wall, right in front of his bed. (His loaded father had tugged and pulled on strings to get him that, so his son would be in a 'better, more bearable' living condition. Whatever that meant.)

Alfred mumbled to himself as he slipped on his pants, and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt, making himself presentable for when York, the nurse assigned to him, came to fetch him for breakfast. When done, he sat on his bed, waiting.

The door opened, revealing York and all his York-ness. York was a tall, bulky African-American who should've been in sports instead of nursing mentally ill people, like Alfred was. He was sporting a bright yellow outfit that the staff of the hospital wore. (Though, according to one of Al's new friend, Feliks, would say he's "like, totally unstylish,")

Alfred smiled friendly at him, "Hi!"

York nodded, and gave him a closed mouth smile, fully walking into the room, carrying a tray, with the rubber eggs, plastic bacon, his medication, and orange juice. "Today, we're locking down the patients to their quarters for the day... I'm not supposed to tell you, but it's because there's a new person here, and he's having a tough time adjusting." Al nodded, picking up his fork and playing with his food before he ditched it and chugged the orange juice and his meds. "D'ya know if I can go outside today?" Usually the patients were allowed privileges to sit outside for about an hour to thirty minutes, but Alfred was doubtful.

"No. Unless, of course, a fire is started or something.. Though that would never happen. The pyromaniacs had their fire stuff taken away."

* * *

_Arthur's POV_

_"Hey! I just meet you, and this is crazy! But here's my number, so call me maybe!" _

Arthur opened his eyes, and, groggily, looked up at Stacey, a nurse who had bugged him all day with way too preppy blonde and an annoying phone that always blasted the same bloody American pop songs over and over. "Mr. Kirkland, if you're just gunna sleep, would you like me to escort you to your room?"

"I wasn't going to sleep," Arthur harshly stated, "I was thinking."

"Oh, okay then!" She smiled and nodded her head, before she interrupted Arthur's peace, yet again, "Mister Kirkland, you have another meeting with Dr. Zwingli in about five minutes. Do ya wanna start walking to her office?"

"Sure." Another meeting? For what? Arthur shook his head, getting up and following the nurse.

Arthur came into the office, and saw Dr. Zwingli, who was a rather pretty young woman, not looking a day over twenty, with short golden locks, light green eyes, and a pale pink blazer, was typing away on a computer, a smile tugging on her lips. "Dr. Zwingli, Mr. Kirkland's here to see ya," Stacey's announcement broke the doctor's typing-trance, making the doctor look up.

She smiled at Arthur, and pointed toward the chairs in front of her desk, "Please take a seat, Arthur." The young doctor grabbed a file and a clipboard and Arthur sat down, his back straight, hands in his lap.

"So, Arthur," Dr. Zwingli started when Arthur sat. "I'm aware that you had a meeting earlier, with Nurse Joy, over the rules and regulations here, am I correct?"

Arthur nodded, wondering where this was going, "Yes... We went over everything, to the group therapy times to my sleeping corders."

"Okay. Well, as you may know, I am the head Doctor at this facility, and I like to know my patients, and befriend them. Would you like to tell me about yourself?" The young doctor's sweet smile was small, and Arthur could feel it trying to coax something out of him.

"What would you like to know? My life story is really sad, and I don't particularly like to talk about it."

"Well, then, we can talk about something else. What's your favorite color? Mine's purple."

I like green.. And blue, I guess pink's good too."

"Pink? Isn't that a girly color?" Dr. Zwingli giggled, her smile growing as Arthur's monstrous eyebrows crashed together.

"It's not. Men can like it too."

"M'hmm. Sure. Now, What's your favorite..." She pondered for a moment, "Type of candy bar? I personally like Twix."

"M&M's."

"Ah. M&M's are cool. What's your favorite.."

And on and on they went, for the next hour.

* * *

**Hey dudes! **

**I just had to finish this, since I was bored and needed to test something (You'll see it later on in this story.)**

**And, yes, I know that I need to finish my other stories.. But this one just had to be published!~ **

**I'll make this one story my topest priority now, for the month! It'll be done by the end of the month. (Hopefully)**

**Reviews are like, totes love!**


	2. Boston

**I own Hetalia in no way, shape, or form!**

* * *

_In the light of the sun  
Is there anyone?  
Oh, it has begun_

_Oh, dear, you look so lost_  
_Your eyes are red when tears are shed_  
_The world you must have crossed, you said_

_You don't know me, you don't even care_  
_Oh yeah, you said_  
_You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains_  
_Oh yeah_

_Boston_

_Augustana_

* * *

_"Arthur! Good morning!" Peter smiled, as he appeared, sitting on Arthur's bed, his feet swinging off the edge of it._

_"What do you want?" Arthur scowled as he threw a dirty shirt at Peter, not noticing as it passed through him and landed on his bed. "Why don't you just shut it?"_

_"Shut what?" Peter laughed tiny golden bells of laughter. His kiddish innocence was really irking Arthur. "I was just trying to say something. Now, big broth-"_

_"Argh! Don't call me that!" Arthur was furious. __His cheeks reddened, and his hair a mess, Arthur got up and ran to Peter, pouncing on him. _

_Arthur landed on his bed, crushing his little mint bunny that Scott gave him when they were little. When they actually talked. "Ach! Peter!" He cursed, his ginormous eyebrows knotting together in frustration. He really was getting tired of this. _

_After Arthur dressed, Peter-free, thank God, he started for the kitchen, and made his cup of tea and a bowl of Cherrios. He seated himself in his dinning room, and started to eat. That is, until he heard Peter humming. _

_At first, Arthur tried to ignore it. Then it ended, and Arthur thought it over. He thought he disappeared. A very silly thought, to say the least._

_When Arthur finished with his breakfast, he rinsed his mug and bowl, and placed them in the dishwasher. Upon leaving the kitchen, Arthur paused, and listened for any sounds that clued in on Peter's presence. There was a small, but noticeable noice. It sounded like a pencil-on-paper, though Arthur wasn't sure. Slilently sneaking towards his livingroom, Arthur saw that Peter was drawing something. Upon further inspection, it looked very similar to a human figure, though Arthur couldn't really tell. "What are you drawing? How'd you get those pencils?" _

_"Hmm? I found them. I'm drawing you America. You know, you guys really did make a good couple. He made you not so grumpy, like you are now. I wonder if he lives in America in this world..." Peter's brows deepened as he thought, his hand still moving, coloring in America's huge cowlick in with a gold colored pencil. His eyes were a very pretty blue, and he wore this brown leather jacket and a white T-shirt underneath. The biggest pink smile was across his face, and he had a pair of glasses._

_"He looks like a huge idiot."_

* * *

They had moved on to real therapy, and Dr. Zwingli had managed to get something out of him. So far, she had gotten even more than anyone had ever gotten out of him.

"You don't see or hear him anymore, right? Your prescription should be working."

"Yes. I really never liked him." Arthur scowled, remembering the little prat. Peter.

His 'little friend', and one of the reasons that landed him here.

Peter had started out as an imaginary being, forming around Arthur's late teens. He'd always been lurking around Arthur's house, his voice always shouting his voice at the most random times... And Arthur did learn to block him out mentally, until, well, Peter started to stick around him. Following him.

It was Peter who had ruined his life, after all.

Peter with his antagonizing actions, Peter with his annoying laugh, and Peter with his nagging. He always wanted to play. He always sang. Oh, and he popped up in the most awkward places too. Like, when Arthur was taking a shower, or even when he was on a date. And Arthur would always ignore him, and move on.

Until... Peter broke him and Arthur's family made him receive his very well-needed help from medical professionals.

"So, what did 'he' look like?"

Arthur was sprawled across her little couch, hugging a mint green pillow the color of the couch he was on, his eyes closed, as if he were sleeping. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, vividly recalling the small child. "He was... He had the physical appearance of an eleven, no, twelve-year-old. His hair was bright yellow, like mine is. And his eyes.. His eyes were a bright blue.. Peter always had on this little sailor outfit, with a hat... He claimed he was a country, called Sealand, and I was England, his big brother." Arthur took a pause, realizing how crazy that sounded. He was a country? That was bogus. "I'm not making any since, am I Doctor?"

Arthur's bright green eyes opened and looked up at the Doctor's. "Oh please, Arthur. And, you make perfect sence. Oh, and please call me Lina, since Doctor sounds a too formal."

"Okay then, Lina... Well, where was I? Oh, yeah. Well, Peter thought I was England, right? It really never ended there. When he followed me out of my house, and into my social life, He'd always point out who was a country too."

"Who would he say was a country?" This was very interesting; Lina had never heard of this. This went a little beyond what she was used to.

"Well, Peter said I was England, and my old boss was China, as well as the Danish bartender who worked at this bar I frequented... His name was Mathias? Yeah, Mathias. He was apparently Denmark. Though, what was weird, is that he never showed me who America was... Though he did talk about him a lot."

"What'd he say about this America?"

"He said..." He talked about how England and America were together... But Arthur was not about to tell Lina that. No matter how sweet she seemed. "He said that we were like brothers. Though that didn't make sence, since my brothers, Scott, Patrick and Owen were Scotland, Northern Ireland, and Wales. Oh, and Fiona, my sister, was Ireland."

"Hmm. Well, Peter was a creation of your mind, right? Did you ever have a really close American friend you considered a brother?"

"No."

"That's weird, then." The doctor's wrist watch beeped, "Oh, looks like our time's up, Arthur. I have to talk to someone else... Would you like Stacey to escort you back to your room? I can get her, if you want."

"No, thank you. I can manage."

* * *

"Hi! Thanks so much for coming! I was like, so totally bored!"

"Any time. Now, where's the food?" Gilbert grinned as he practically waltzed in, Alfred in tow.

Feliks' room was a small, two person room that he shared with Francis, who, being bipolar, was in his 'gloomy' state. (Who knew how long it'd last..) He was burrowed into his bed, drugged off his ass with anti-depressants.

"I never said there would be food. I'm sick of that shit they give me." Feliks' face turned into a look of utter disgust, making Gilbert laugh.

"Fine then, Mr. Anorexic."

"Eh! Shut up! You're such a so-last-season douche!"

"Oh, sorry. I meant Little-Miss-Blulimic!"

"Wow. Ladies, ladies," Alfred grinned, pulling out some Skittles from his huge pocket and chucked them at Gilbert, "Y'all need ta calm yo butts down. Francis is PMSing, and you know what would happen if he wakes.. 'Member last time?"

"Whatevz.." Feliks sat on his bed, which sported white sheets. Like, totally unfashionable.

Gilbert suck his lounge out at Feli, "Sucker!" And, snatching the Skittles, he lounged on the ground in between Francis and Feliks' bed.

"So.. This is boring.." Alfred put his hands in his pockets, and pouted within five minutes of being in quiet. This was not at all what Gilbert had said, when he'd talked Alfred out of his room. "Wanna play cards? I have some," Anything to cure the horrid boringness!

"Sure." Feliks replied.

"Okay.. What game?" Alfred contemplated.

"War? I like that one! I always win!" Gilbert was pretty conceited when it came to winning at anything.

"M'kay, I guess war it is, then.." Alfred shuffled the cards and set them into three different decks, keeping one and handing the others to Feliks. "Who wants to start?"

Three victories from Gilbert and two from Alfred later, Feliks grew tired of the game. "Hey, why don't we play something else?"

"Like what?" Gilbert lifted a brow, "I don't like any other card games."

Feliks nodded along with Gilbert, "I'm like, so not playing Go Fish."

"I can swipe some board games from the rec room, if y'all want." Alfred stated. Anything to get rid of Gil's victory calls.

Feliks nodded, "Ooh! Get Monopoly! Or Operation.. No! Get Sorry! That game is like, totally cool!"

"Pissh! Alfred, what you should get is Risk!" Gilbert grinned, "That game is amazing!"

"_Merde_.. Could you be any louder? I'm trying to sleep!" Francis' head poked out of his blanket-wrap, a scowl marring his face.

"Oh, sorry Franny... I'll be sure to talk louder!" Gil's voice steadily raised as he talked, increasing the intensity of Francis' headache.

Francis just scowled.

"Top of the morning to ya Francis..." Alfred laughed as he stood up, his right leg tingling from sitting on it too long, "Ima go get Sorry, Operation, Monopoly and Risk then, I guess." Upon leaving the room, Alfred's face grew serious, as he tiptoed to the rec room. Something inside of him loved to do the daring, awesome stuff that required breaking the rules, though this was probably in no way as dangerous as some of the shit he pulled when he was in school.

Well, technically, if the wrong someone caught him walking about today, he could get all his 'rich boy' privileges revoked. But, even if that were to happen, Alfred was known for adapting quickly. (There was also the fact that, if he really needed to, Alfred knew how to whine and cry for something to his momma in just the right way. That's how he never got grounded when he was in junior high or high school.)

* * *

Just as Alfred was coming back with Risk, Sorry, Monopoly, and Operation, he turned and, out of nowhere, ran right into someone.

"Ouch!" The stranger exclaimed, as all the board games fell and landed, right on his foot. All the lids slipped off, and out came the boards, cards, Risk's army people, and the other various game pieces.

Alfred's eyes widened. Omigodish! What'd he just do?!

"I'm so sorry dude! I didn't mean to!"

Alfred looked down at the man, who was looking up at him, his mouth forming a tiny o-like shape, like Alfred had grown a third arm or something. He quickly recovered though, and with an, "I'll help you with that mess," He bent down, and he started to pick up the pieces. Alfred, after a second, joined him.

Just as Arthur was starting to organize the pieces into piles according to their games when Alfred finally spoke up, whispering so their chances of getting caught wouldn't get bigger, "My name's Alfred... Just ta let ya know."

"Mine's Arthur," He whispered back.

"Really? I've never met an Arthur before..." Alfred smiled at Arthur, making Arthur look down, his cheeks reddening.

WHy did this boy have to look so much like the boy Peter had drawn?! His huge smile, which didn't really make him look like the idiot Arthur pictured him to ben when Peter drew him, and his little cowlick looked so much like what he'd seen before. But that was just on a piece of paper that a twelve year-old had drawn. This was it real life.

* * *

**I apologize for this slow beginning.. And this crappiness towards the end.. It really started to morph into stupidness after a while of writing this, so I had to wait and start over with it, when I had a clearer mind.**

******I'll post the next chapter Tuesday, since I have a slumber party today and saturday... As well as other shit. v.v ...**

**Oh, and hiccups ain't fun. Especially in the middle of the night. While I try to write this.. Oh! I think it stopped!**

**..Or not. /:**

**REVIEW! (To show your hatred of hiccups?) **


	3. Bewitched

**_Hetalia isn't mine. Though I'd totally have Finland and Poland be the main characters if I did. x3 _**

* * *

_You're attractive little witch, you're beautiful,_  
_Your wickedness, little witch, it broke my heart,_  
_Empty words, little witch, you cast a spell,_  
_Mass destroyer, little witch, you're beautiful_

_You've got me bewitched 'cause I'm under your spell, oh_  
_You must be a witch 'cause I am living in hell, oh_

_Now is the time, now is the hour_  
_I am the magic, I am the power, oh_  
_All I need is one star in the sky_  
_Wish for you every night_

Bewitched

Blood on the Dance Floor

* * *

_"Ready or not, here I come!" Matthew raised his eyebrows as he passed the pot Alfred was hiding in, his eyes shifting past it, knowing Alfred was in there. "Where are you, Al?"_

_After opening a few doors, rather loudly, Matt moved up to his and Alfred's room, and upon entering he closed the door and took out his book, climbing up the bunk bed and crawling under his covers. Taking out his flash light, he began to read The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes._

_Down stairs, Alfred was waiting for his little brother to get him... _

_A feeling in his gut was exploding. He was so great at this game! He giggled quietly, still quite conscious of the fact that he needed to keep quiet. One giggle wasn't bad, right?_

_One hour later, the babysitter's cry of "Dinner!" Echoed throughout the Jones' household. Matthew put his book away and raced downstairs, his mind completely forgetting about Alfred. _

_Upon entering the dining room, Matthew sat, and waited for his delicious meal of ham and mashed taters. _

_"Miss. Hannah, when will Mama and Daddy be home?" Matthew knew they would be out all night. They almost never got to kiss him and Al good night. _

_"Your parents will be back by eight, like always." The sassy reply from Hannah was a regular occurrence. She was as mean as Vicky from Fairy-Odd Parents! And, what made it worse was that all she ever did was listen to the Backstreet Boys and swoon over Justin Timberlake from NSYNC. _

_"Oh." Matthew huffed and finished his meal before going back to his room and watching TV till seven, his bedtime._

_Alfred, being the extremely stubborn eight year old he was, slept in the vase, time passing without him even realising. Before he even knew it, the morning had arrived and, surprisingly, no one even noticed, or cared, about little Alfred. His own little brother had forgotten about him. _

* * *

"Hmm. I guess that's done then, Arthur." Alfred whispered, as he shifted to his knees, not really noticing how close he was to Arthur. They both had finished sorting the game pieces together, and were now

"Why are we whispering?" Arthur responded, his eyebrows going up as his mouth formed a little grin. Honestly, it was very silly.

"I dun wanna get in trouble. Lina wouldn't get me in shit, but a few people here..." Alfred looked around real fast, then focused most of his attention back to Arthur. "That'd kill me, if they got that chance. Seriously." Alfred's mind bounced back in time, about a few weeks ago. He'd been a newbie, still trying to make friends when Ivan, this huge, ginormous Russian had approached him.

Ivan was all kinds of wacked up in the head, and Alfred didn't agree with

"Sure." Arthur smiled. Little hairs on his neck were still raised; he was really spooked. Peter... He was really something.

"Hey," Alfred just couldn't get enough of those eyes... Green, bright, exotic. He could just dive in them. "Arthur, if you wanna, you could come with me after we finish this, we could go to my friends' room and play these."

"... I guess I could. I wouldn't be a bother, right?"

"Course not. I'm sure Gil would love your company... Feliks wouldn' mind either, I bet. And as for Francis... He'd be asleep, and even if he wasn't, then he could suck it up. Cause I like you. I'm really positive they will too."

And so, when Alfred and Arthur were done with sorting and Arthur followed Alfred to Felik's room.

...

"Pishhh! I know how to take 'em." Alfred grinned as Arthur scowled.

"You could never take Paul McCartney. He'd have guards, you arse." That retort earned Francis and Gilbert's laughter.

Feliks just sighed, very dramatically, "Come on, I like, really wanted to play Monopoly! It's literally been forever since I've played."

"Mon ami, the new couple are bonding. I fear we may have to start without them. Alfred."

But Alfred wasn't listening to anyone other than Arthur. They'd bonded, and, to the discourage of Gilbert and co., they'd also been flirting. Their flirting had turned into arguing over various random topics, including weither or not Alfred could take different knighted englishmen. They now moved to David Beckam.

"I'd have to actually watch that in order to know if he or me would win. Oh! Artie, wanna play Monopoly?" Alfred randomly changed his focus of the moment. Everyone else in the room exhaled I relief. Whew, finally!

Arthur reddened, "I'm not Artie! And yes, I will. Can I be the thimble?"

"Sure thang." Gilbert tossed the thimble to Arthur, who put it on the start place. "I call the dog!"

Alfred pouted, "No, mine! I want it!"

"Gilbert, let Alfred have the dog, you had it last time," Gilbert gave Feliks the bird.

"Mon deiu! Gilbert! We have a guest!" Francis gasped in fake shock.

"Not like I've heard worse. Alfred, just be the wagon! No, Alfred!" Arthur rolled his eyes as Alfred and Gilbert started to physically push each other.

Boys will be boys...

* * *

**Okay! Hope'ch ya liked it. **

**Review? I'd love you forever~~**

**P.S. **

**Next chapter will be the start to the end of this little story.. so stay tuned!**

**(Oh, and it'll be in an alternate universe.. DUN DUN DUN!))**


	4. Scene Two: Roger Rabbit

**Hetalia don't belong to me as cartoon network don't own avengers.**

**A/N: Okay, so the first flashback is in an alternate universe. So yeah.. hope you like it?**

* * *

_Is there a right way for how this goes_  
_You've got your friends_  
_And you've got your foes _  
_They want a piece of something hot_  
_Forget your name like they forgot_

_Ain't that something_

_Some wanna see you crash and burn_  
_I criticize your every word_  
_I'm trying to keep from going insane_  
_Ain't that the way of this whole damn thing_

_Trying to be something more..._

Scene Two Roger Rabbit

Sleeping With Sirens

* * *

_"Might be... Norway! Help!... What do you mean, Den... Th't..."_

_Sealand had crashed. Horrifically. _

_Sealand's personification, Peter Kirkland, had felt it when he was with Sweden and Finland. None of them realized what had happened when Peter collapsed. _

_..._

_"So, to get this straight, one of your ships just happened to crash into Seal and completely and utterly destroy it? Dude, I doubt this was an accident." America folded his arms cross his chest, shaking his head. _

_A couple of countries, like the North and South Italies, Japan, China, Russia, America, England, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Norway, and France, had assembled to question Germany, since it was a German ship that ended Sealand. _

_"It was! I would never do that! Why would I?"_

_"Didn't one of your citizens kidnap the prince's son once?" England asked, eyebrow raising. He couldn't really care less about Peter, but... something in him did. _

_"Ja. But he was with other dutch men too! Why don't you blame the Netherlands?"_

_"Dude. It's a German ship."_

_Germany closed his eyes. And breathed out, slowly. He really didn't need this, he didn't need this... "I'm done." Germany left._

_..._

_"Well, England, Sealand was kinda cool. I mean, he did have the guts to try to save us from those Pictaponians. He even ran on water!" America started to unbutton his shirt, while England, who already had his shirt off, started to work on his trousers. _

_"Whatever. He was a little prat. Bothering me when he got bored. Eh."_

_"I heard he's fading. Only a day or two left before he, you know." Personifications' deaths were very tragic, and more often than not completely avoided in conversation. It reminded others of what could happen to them. _

_"Yeah, I know. I talked to Sweden and Finland. Finland was in tears though, so I could not get much of the conversation." Trousers off. Now it was England's job to help America with his shirt. The boy could never unbutton things the right way. His strong hands always tore it apart._

_"Now, America, I don't really want to talk about death. Let's talk about us. Wait, second thought! Let's not talk. Let's have sex. You want to bottom or top?"_

* * *

_"Alfred? Darling?" _

_Martha and George had come home around 11, and after they paid the sitter, climbed upstairs to change and check on the children. It had become a thing that they would do after parties, which, now a days, had become almost very day in the week. _

_Being family to a very rich man like George Jones had its downers, like everything does. At least the family had money, right?_

_Any ways, when Martha had changed from her elegant midnight blue knee-length dress to a floral silk night-gown and made her way to the boy's room to find a pea fully asleep Matthew, but an absent Alfred, you could say she was way past worried. She had no idea how to feel, as images of Alfred worked through her head. _

_Images of Alfred laughing. Of him smiling, crying, even ones of him as a baby boy, right after George had left them for the sickly, pregnant bitch of a mistress that gave Matthew before she died. Even of ones when he came back with Matthew, begging for her forgiveness. And when Alfred had instantly bonded with Matthew, leaving Martha no choice but to forgive the children's father and learn to eventually love Matthew. _

_God, where was her sweet Alfie? The one that had ticklish toes, the one who stayed a petite baby till he sprouted up into a boy. The one she truly loved. _

_"Alfred! Alfie?"_

_She never looked in the pot that Alfred was sound asleep in, totally ignoring his mother's cries as he chased bunnies in his dreams, the big brother he had never got to have in this world, smiling as he did so._

_.:.:.:...:.:.:._

_"Matthew, honey, would you change and come down stairs?" Martha had awoken her stepson, Matthew, not even answering his groggy question of 'Why' as she left the room._

_Matt figured there was a surprise waiting for him. It was almost Christmas, right? June had just passed, and Christmas was in July... or at least that's what Kidd Kraddick from the morning had told him long ago._

_So, Matt dressed his best, a hockey jersey and jeans, making himself presentable by brushing his hair and teeth. He even grabbed Kuma-something, his polar bear, before departing from his room. _

_As he descended the stairs, though, a rough, deep voice talked, making Matthew stop, listening to the big words come out of his mouth. Some were even too big for him to imagine. _

_What was abducted? Charged? That one sounded like something an electric thing would need, but the context of the voice's tone didn't seem to mean that._

_"I'm so sorry! I hadn't noticed! They were both watching that Pokémon show they liked, while I was cooking the dinner. They both had dinner." Was that voice Hannah's voice? It sure sounded like it, Matthew though, as he sat on the second to top stair step. If it was Hannah's voice, then something must have happened. It was all scratchy and sounded like a crying person's. _

_Matthew chose that pause after Hannah's plea to run downstairs, still expecting a tree to be in the center of the room, and many gifts. "I'm here!"_

_A man turned from a tense position of sitting in front of Hannah to look at Matthew. He turned back to George, who was holding a crying Martha. "Is this the brother?"_

_"Yes. He is Matthew. Matthew, introduce yourself like a gentleman." George looked at his son, and after a moment of hesitation on Matthew's part, he added, "Come on."_

_"I'm Matthew." He ran over to his daddy, who gestured to the couch, before Matthew took a seat next to Hannah. She really was crying. Huh, Matthew had always thought mean people couldn't cry. _

_"Hello, Mr. Matthew," the rough, deep voice belonged to a police officer. "My name's Officer Hill." Matthew slowly took his outstretched hand, expecting it to zap him or something. Alfred did that to him once. _

_"Why? Why are you here, Mister Hill?" Matthew tilted his head to his left side in questioning. _

_"I'm here for your half-brother, Alfred. He's missing."_

_"I'm not his 'half' brother; I'm just his full one. And what's missing?" Looking around, Matthew noticed the absence of his brother. "Where's Al?"_

_"That's what we are looking for. Do you know where he is, or could be?"_

_"...No," Matthew shook his head. "Did he get a kid nap?"_

_"We don't know. I want you to tell me. You were last seen with him, watching a program?"_

_"I don't know what a program is, but we were watching Pokémon, then we played hide and seek. Then I read a book. Oh, then dinner." _

_The officer wrote stuff down while Matthew was talking, and Matthew thought that that was really rude. After he stopped talking, and the officer stopped writing or whatever, he looked up at Matthew, "You said you played hide and seek with Alfred, then read a book? Where was Alfred during this?"_

_"Oh, that's easy. Alfred was either in the dryer, sheet cabinet, or behind the curtains. I think he hid behind the curtains, he likes to do that most." Matthew shrugged, whilst the adults shared a look, Martha no longer holding onto her husband. Oh no, now she was leaning against the couch, contemplating the thought of s making Matthew right then and there for abandoning her son and making her call the police for nothing, for the sleepless night she had, the only hour of sleep she had a nightmare of 'what if's. _

_All because of a game of hide and seek that Matthew instigated just to rid himself of her son._

_"Really?" Hannah said, "Really? Really? I was yelled at by a police officer because you ditched a game of hide and seek?!" She stood, letting out huge huffs of breath. "I hate children!" She sighed, before going back on the couch. Mental note to self, never have kids. (Little did she know that that thought would stay with her until she rued it too late, on her deathbed.)_

_"I just wanted to read. Can't I?"_

_"Not when you have Alfred, son. You both will grow older, and get other friends of your own. But, first, you must be Alfred's friend. You know, he goes to school this year. You can read all you want then." George placed a hand upon his shoulder, comforting him._

_"But! I need to read now!" Matthew, though he was only still very little, had loved words since he could talk. He just adored reading, it was by far his favorite thing to do. _

_"Well, you lot can solve is problems," Officer Hill stood, "I'll just look for the other boy."_

_.:.:.:...:.:.:._

_Alfred had woken up earlier, but was just too afraid to come out. What should I do?! Thought he, as he peeked over the top of the vase, the officer in sight. He was going to get caught sooner or later, so might as well be now, right? _

_But then again, this hiding spot was really good, and not even Matt knew about it. _

_He was still also playing hide and seek. _

_So Alfred chose to hide, the police man looking in the aforementioned hiding places, all the while Alfred waited for his time to strike. _

_Aha! The police officer left the room. The time was then. _

_Alfred shot up, attempting to jump out of the vase. Unfortunately, his right leg had fallen asleep, leaving it dead, as it dragged Alfred to the floor, with a thump, as well as they vase, which took its own landing with a clash, the loud sound of glass being broken. _

_His mission of hide and seek was compromised; he was totally discovered. (He had also broken his wrist with that fall, as well as acquired a lots of cuts and bruises.)_

* * *

"You are awesome. You are brilliant." Alfred studied himself in the mirror, as he straightened his Tom and Jerry shirt. He really needed a confidence boost and since no one around here would do it, he would have to. Not that it bothered him. He would have to stick up for himself all the time outside the hospital he was in. Not that anyone cared.

Three short knocks brought Alfred from his reflection, and Al smiled as he opened the door to Arthur, his... boyfriend?

Boyfriend sounds good enough.

Any ways, as Alfred opened the door and let Arthur inside, Arthur raised his brow as he surveyed the room. "I would have expected your room to be a mess."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, for starters, look at Gilbert! When I first entered our room, I wasn't astonished at the slob's lack of cleanliness. Though there was some order to it."

"Whatever. I let the maids collect my dirty clothes and wash them. Gilbert's too paranoid for maids." Alfred went over to his tiny closet, and dug out a plain brown belt, putting it on as he continued, "I'm guessing you straitened everything out in your room? I think I heard Gilbert complaining about it a week ago..."

"Well, I bet you Gilbert couldn't clean to save his life." Arthur rolled his eyes. Why was he always surrounded by people like Gilbert? First it was his brothers, then all the other roommates he'd get. Until he decided that he would be better off without them.

Unfortunately, the cycle started again with Gilbert.

"Mkay, I'm ready to go." Alfred snatched up his remote and turned his television, gesturing for Arthur to start leaving. As Alfred and Arthur were walking in the hall, Arthur chose that moment to comment on Alfred's attire.

"You know we are supposed to be in group therapy?"

"Yeah. I know and group therapy is optional, Artie." Alfred rolled his eyes and chuckled, adding, "I'm the one who's been here awhile, remember Mr. Five Days?"

"My name's not Artie! It's Arthur! How many times have told you?" Seriously, the nicknames Alfred gave him were getting old. Fast. "And why aren't we going to group therapy? It's the other way, just to let you know."

"Well, if you remember from last night, I was gonna show ya something." Alfred grinned before completing his reply, "Or are you getting Alzheimer's, old man? You know, I heard the meaner people are, the more likely you'd be getting it."

Arthur's eyes widened as he reddened, "I'm only twenty-three! I am NOT old!"

"Sure ya ain't, Mister Kirkland."

"I hate you." Arthur's monstrous eyebrows clenched together.

"Love ya too, sweet cheeks."

"Whatever. Where are we going, any way? We clearly aren't going to therapy." Arthur stepped on, his arms crossed.

"Well, it's a secret. I would tell ya, but, well, we wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, now would we?" Alfred grinned, as they continued to converse, walking down the seemingly endless hallway, until they reached it. The emergency exit door.

"You ready?" Alfred asked, his voice in a whisper.

A brow raised as Arthur answered, "You idiot, we can't leave. There are cameras, and the door will trigger the alarm. There's no way I'm going outside." A little adrenaline went through Arthur, compelling him to want the outside. Not to mention that Arthur's been craving the outdoors. Fresh air. Long awaited sunlight caressing his pale white skin.

Alfred shook his head, and, even though Arthur raised his arms and gripped Alfred's, pushed the doors open. A blast of warm summer air welcomed Arthur and Alfred, the blissful scent of dirt and, to plainly put it, 'outsideness' wafted into the doorway.

"See? No alarm. Nothing to worry about, dude." Alfred gestured to the video camera, which was heavily covered by pink bubble gum. "Gilbert, Francis and I came over here last night and took the alarm off and chewed gum before covering up the camera's lense. We've doe this before, and it usually takes them two to three days to take care of this. This wing of the asylum's not really supervised much." Alfred took a daring step outside, "Oh, and before I forget." He started to slip off his Nike's, "You don't want dirt trailing in." Placing them by three other pairs, Alfred waited for Arthur to follow his steps.

As Arthur followed suit, taking off his sneakers, he called upon the three other pairs of shoes. "Alfred, are we meeting people?"

"Yeah. Francis, Feliks, and Gilbert. We're celebrating an amazing occasion. Wait, two occasions. Care to guess?"

"No, not really." Alfred rolled his eyes and lead Arthur over to a very tall group of bushes. Arthur stopped right in front of the brush, turning to Alfred, "What are we here for?"

"Well, for starters, your arrival, and Feliks' departure. He leaves this shitty place tomorrow at noon."

"Oh, good for him. What are we doing to celebrate?" Arthur asked, moving so Alfred could lead.

"Oh, you'll see. Don't wanna waste the surprise!"

They went through the bush, and came to a very in closed space where Gilbert, Francis, and Talks were sitting on the hospital's outside utility boxes, Gilbert laughing his 'keskeskes', a bottle of beer in his hand while Francis sat right by him, a cigarette in his hand. Feliks was sitting on the highest unit, whilst Gilbert and Francis were on the second highest. Alfred greeted them with a "Hey, long time no see! Where's the beer?"

Gilbert tossed a bottle to Alfred, who effortlessly twisted the cap off before chugging what Arthur guessed to be at least half the beer. "Are you even old enough to drink?" Arthur inquired, and Alfred slyly shook his head.

"But what happens in the bushes stays in the bushes."

"Wow." Arthur smiled, "I would have expected you to be the type of boy who'd wait for his first drink." Not really. Most teens these days drank, since it was easier to get fake IDs.

"Nah, I got my first beer at age.. what was it... nine? One of my Dad's drinking buddies let me have a full can. Drunk people just seem to live for children drinking beer. They let Matt, my brother, get his at seven. Of course, he didn't drink more than a sip."

Everyone laughed, and when they were done Francis asked, "Oh, and Alfred, when are we going to see him again? He was very adorable!"

Alfred gave him a wide-eyed look. "No. My brother."

Gilbert slyly grinned, "I think he's cute too, Alfred."

Alfred shook his head, "No, Gilbert, not you too! I thought you said you don't do glasses!"

"That was before I remembered glasses are a way for people who are shy to hide!" Gilbert was always in supply of a counter argument.

"Whatever. Matthew is cute. End of story!" Feliks sighed, so used to the 'Matthew argument.' Ever since Francis and Gilbert laid eyes on Alfred's brother, (who, by the way, is always ignored when he's with Alfred...) Matthew, they argued over and over on who had 'dibs' and other stuff. It was basically just to annoy Alfred, everyone knew that. (Maybe except Alfred.)

Of course, it wasn't the end of story, though.

Alfred turned to Feliks, "Don't you dare like him too! Isn't he like, too un fabulous for you?!"

This dreadful look of despiration was on Alfred's face. Arthur chose to have fun, instead of supporting his ally. "Alfred, I think... I think I might be in love with this Matthew!" Arthur, very dramatically, did an overly exaggerated swoon, laughing at Alfred.

"It isn't funny, Arthur!"

He stopped laughing, "Of course, Alfred. I'm sorry." He looked at everyone, Gilbert and Francis waiting for the punch line they knew was coming, "It's hilarious!"

.:.:.:...:.:.:.

"Has," Alfred had burped, "Anyone. Ever done. This!"

The longest burp in the history of civilization was dealt out by no other than Alfred Jones. Wide eyes stared.

After the beer, Gilbert pulled out another six-pack. This one was Coca-Cola.

They had all gotten one, and, when Alfred won the belching contest, he won the rest of the bottles, burping out his abc's, then going crazy before they all decided it was time to go.

Gilbert, Francis, and Feliks had departed after the long burp, leaving just the two of them.

Arthur and Alfred. Alfred and Arthur.

"So..." Alfred looked at Arthur, thinking of a couple of things they could do.

"...So?" Arthur inquired, looking into Al's eyes. Just knowing what he was thinking. "Do you want to go back inside, right now, or... Do you want to stay, outside?" Arthur's brows lifted, in questioning.

"Well, I dunno bout you, but I want to stay outside." They smiled at each other.

.:.:.:...:.:.:.

"Of course not, Franny. They didn't go all the way." Gilbert rolled his eyes, then took a better look upon Francis nudging him. "You didn't, right?"

Alfred laughed, "No. We agreed not to until after we both get out, that is if we even last."

* * *

**Okay dudes, I'm sorry this story is so damn short.. One more chapter till I'm done. Yay!**

**Though I didn't really get to finish sooner than I wanted to, I swear I will try to finish this thing faster than I am going. Yeah! Three thousand words!**

**Oh, and excuse my French, but I really fucking suck ass at writing some countries. Sorry bout that.**

**Review=Love. Remember that. xD **


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